Where I stood on that last day
I saw you walking across the bridge.
I believe you did not see me
but you must have sensed my presence.
When I could no longer see you
I lit a cigarette and sat on a
graffitied boulder near the
Let me go back to the beginning.
Of something, of a foreign time.
I came into this body detached
from a previous version of myself.
With few memories or tangible experience
I went within and sought refuge in
the primordial soup beneath the
burning sky and molten mountains,
a time of transition,
a time of birth.
Back to what could be the present
where I stood on that last day
I saw you walking across the bridge
and I approached you.
With the first step you turned around
and the bridge disappeared
replaced with lights, energy
beautiful chaos that triggered
a recollection and with the memory
I lost my physical self and as
I took your hand we entered
a gateway back home.